Lost In My Head
by BitzerClucky
Summary: Vic gets lost in her head while looking at a photo.
1. Chapter 1

Lost In My Head BitzerClucky

Sean was right. As much as I hate to admit it, it's true. I need to stop obsessing over it and move the fuck on. It's like I don't even know myself anymore. I don't like this shit. Baby steps, that's what I need to do. Baby steps to get my shit together. First and foremost I need to stop looking at this picture. It's just a painful reminder that I was indeed very happy that night in Arizona. Just as Sean said, it was the happiest I've ever been. How did it all get so fucked?

I suppose it wont hurt to lay here a little longer before I peal this god awful uniform off for the night. I'm just so tired. Physically tired from working crazy hours these past few months and mentally tired from trying to figure out what I'm suppose to be doing and morally tired from once again jumping into bed with someone I really don't care about. Sure Eammon is a good cop and fun to be with but really, why did I fall back on my old ways? Why sleep with him?

My track record with making colossal messes of my love life goes way back. All the way to the backseat of Joey Caputo's Camaro. Why on earth I thought it would be a good idea to let that jackass be my first is beyond me. It was the most awkward and unromantic thirty seconds of my life. Joey was just one in a long line of ill fitted romances from my youth. It's a divine miracle that I didn't either end up with an STD or knocked up.

When I got into the academy I decided to forgo men and concentrate on becoming the best cop I could be. I finally found a purpose and if I were the type to wax poetic, I found my calling. I put everything I had into learning and training to become the best cop I could be. One that my father could be proud of. As much as I really don't give a shit what people think about me, my father is the one exception. When I graduated at the top of my class and saw his look of approval I finally felt like I belonged.

I wasn't celibate by any means but I had made more thoughtful and discreet choices. Men whom I knew would be able to get the job done. No more backseat romances. I was making a name for myself at the station too. My hard work was getting noticed. I earned citations and praise from the higher ups. I even caught the eye of one of the detectives. We'd worked a few cases together and met up in the bar one night and hit it off. Ed fucking Gorski. He was funny and sexy and just a bit crazy. It was exciting, satisfying and dirty. I loved it. And then I didn't. He always took it to just the edge, then pulled back. After awhile, his idea of the edge started crossing into an area I didn't feel quite comfortable with. Then I found out he was married. Fucking married! That along with his ever increasing erratic behavior was the end for me. I called it off. Backed away from him and once again swore off men.

I refocused on my career. Not that I let it suffer by any means but I made it my main focus again. Which is why I wasn't expecting Sean Keegan. He wasn't the type of guy I would normally take a second look at which is why he seemed so attractive at the time. I figured since my last step into romance was a cluster fuck I may as well choose the complete opposite in a man. Sean was a 9-5 white-collar kind of guy. He wasn't macho or dangerous. He was safe and consistent. He was the kind of guy that wouldn't take chances in life. He was just what I needed. I found him easy to love. I know now that I never was in love with him but I did love him. When all that shit went down at work and Gorski started stalking me, Sean took a transfer and got us away from it all. A new start where no one knew us or the shit we went through.

I never dreamed I'd meet a man like Walt Longmire or that I would fall head over heels for him. Sean was gone all the time and when he wasn't we fought like crazy. The only thing that kept me going was partnering with Walt. For all the complaining I did. All the whining about how we did it this way or that way back in Philly I felt a connection with not only Walt but also this god forsaken end of the earth, middle of nowhere county. We went through some serious shit together. Walt was there for me in his quiet unassuming way more times than I can count. After the Chance Gilbert incident I realized Sean and I were over. There was no coming back from that and honestly I didn't mind. Sure when I got the divorce papers it was a shock but I didn't fight it. Why fight for a loosing cause that you really don't care about anyway. After some time had passed, I felt it was time for me to make my move with Walt. If I waited for him to make a move we'd never get anywhere.

Why I thought it'd be a good idea to show up at Walt's cabin with my tits on display and a six-pack of beer is beyond me. Just one more fucked up act on my part. I'm just so thankful he wasn't there. We are all so wise in hindsight. That's not saying I wanted what happened with Branch and Barlow to happen but showing up at Walt's they way I had planned wasn't the way to get Walt's attention. Oh sure I'd get his attention all right but he's not that kind of man.

So here I am, feeling sorry for myself in my dirty uniform rehashing every mistake I've ever made. This will get me nowhere. Enough is enough. I need to make the changes necessary to begin again. Begin again with myself and with Walt. Get back to our friendship and hopefully move it forward.

As I pull the photo out one last time, I notice I've got three missed calls and one text on my phone. I must have really been inside my head not to hear the phone. One call from Walt, one from Ruby and one from Ferg as well as a text. WTF. I open the text, it's from Ferg and it says, "911 Walt's cabin, its bad hurry." Fuck me.


	2. Chapter 2

Lost In My Head 2.

Ferg isn't answering his phone. I get that he's obviously in the middle of something but come on…answer! It's going to take me 15 minutes to get to Walt's cabin and that's driving this truck like I stole it. I wish this were just a simple case of a stolen truck but judging by how far my gut fell when I got those messages; it's most certainly not. There isn't even any chatter over the radio. I'm going to try Ferg one more time and so help me if he doesn't answer I'm going to do…something. I'm not sure what or when or how but sure as shit I'm doing it.

I can see the red and blue lights across the field. They're closing in on me fast. Or maybe it's me closing in on them. When two emergency vehicles meet on a two-lane road both with their lights and sirens going, who has the right away? Seems like I should know this but right now the only thing I know for certain is that I'm driving too fast and I'm going into a "bad" situation with no intel. I have absolutely no idea what has taken place other than what I got from Ferg's text message that it was bad. Bad for who though? Walt? Dr Shrink? Could it be something with Cady? Or is it the fucking Horse? Neither the ambulance nor I slow down for each other so I guess my random thoughts on appropriate driver courtesy is a mute point. Just one more corner and I'm at Walt's drive. As I pull closer to the cabin I still cant tell what has happened.

I see Ferg's car, Eammon's Jeep and the Bronco but no one is outside. I pull my gun and make my way to the front door. Just as I'm about to enter, the door opens and Eammon walks out. He startles a bit at my appearance but recovers in no time and ushers me through the door. The place is a wreck. Furniture is overturned, papers are littering the floor and I see broken glass near the fireplace but still no one is talking. Well to be clear, I've still only laid eyes on Eammon since I got here a whopping 45 seconds ago but he's as mute as mute gets. I call out for Ferg and he summons me into the bedroom where he's busy taking pictures. He simply holds up his index finger indicating for me to wait a minute. Seriously Ferg, you're giving me a finger! I'm just about to turn into The Terror when he finishes taking pictures and turns towards me. After a brief pause and a deep breath, he starts filling me in on what he knows.

Ruby got a 911 call from Walt's number but it wasn't Walt on the other end. Dr Shrink was the caller. Apparently she was frantic. Ruby tried to calm her down but all she got from her was hysteric screaming and her saying, " he was going to kill him." Once Ruby relayed the info to Ferg, he called everyone he could for backup. Which included Deputy no longer of the ACSD, Eammon, a non-answering moi and God only knows whom else. When Ferg got out here the only person in the cabin was Walt. He found Walt on the floor near the fireplace barely conscience and wasn't able to get much of any information out of him before he passed out and the EMTs took him away.

I'm about to pass out too. My worry for Walt is almost making me physically ill but I need to get it together and take charge. Do what I'm trained for and try not to worry about how Walt is doing. I need to focus all my energy on figuring out what the hell happened here. Unfortunately I don't know much. But this is what I know so far; Dr Shrink was here but now isn't, Walt was beaten and is on his way to the hospital and his cabin is in shambles. Ferg and I are just about to go over everything we know again when the front door crashes open.


	3. Chapter 3

Lost In My Head BitzerClucky

I very nearly put a cap in Henry's ass. Who crashes through a door into a crime scene? Well Henry obviously. Apparently Ferg called him in his attempt to get ahold of me. I can't wait to see whom else Ferg called in for help. If Travis shows up then I think I'll put that cap in Ferg's ass.

Ferg is doing a great job though. He's already gathered and photographed the scene and put out an APB on the not so good doc. That's what my gut is telling me anyway, she's bad news. Ferg on the other hand is not so sure about my hypothesis but Henry seems to agree. We know the Dr was here, there's proof of that but that's the start and end to what we know. Oh and we also know that Walt got the piss beaten out of him but according to Dr Weston Walt has proof on his knuckles that he didn't go down without a fight. It actually is looking like Walt was taking control of the melee until someone hit him over the head from behind with a lamp. I'm betting the good doctor was the one that did that deed. Ferg is thinking it was Walker Browning. Coming for revenge. But if that were the case then where is the not so good doc?

I can tell Henry knows something or perhaps is hiding something but he's doing his stoic mute routine on me. I'm hoping he'll open up a bit when it's just the two of us. He's been weird for a while now but I really noticed it during the latest case. We were all really shaken up over the events but Henry really seemed different. Snooping around, disappearing and just all around suspicious behavior. Not to mention the limp. He just says he stressed his leg. If it makes him feel better thinking I believe his sorry ass then I'll just let him believe that. As Walt says sometimes the way to catch a killer is to let them think they're free. Well I'm using that train of thought and just letting Henry believe I have no reason to doubt him. Let him think he's gotten away with whatever he's done and soon he'll slip up.

Henry and I were on our way to the hospital when I got a call from The Bob's, Wyoming's finest in the way of highway patrol. They called in some suspicious activity way out on Interstate 25 near Colorado. Robert pulled over Zach our erstwhile deputy and called in Bob for some backup. Apparently he doesn't seem to be in his right mind and he's going off about being followed and conspiracies and fuck knows what else. Ferg perked up when he heard Zach's name so I gave him the go ahead to follow up. Now that Henry and I are alone I'm hoping Mr. Reticent Bear will open up a bit. Fill in some missing bits from his activities these past few months. How naïve I am. The entire trip into town was met with me talking and Henry sitting in complete silence.

We're met in the hospital lobby by Dr Westin and quickly ushered into a private room. Fuck I hate this place. How ironic is it that the Doc decides the same exam room that Walt and I were in after the Gilbert cockup would be the one he chooses to fill me in on Walt's condition. I'm out of my mind with worry about Walt but I'm feeling pretty secure in my abilities to hide it. Once I know he's ok then I can ask him what the hell went down. He's the key to closing this case. I'm brought out of my musings when I hear Henry let out a deep breath and look to the ceiling in what I can only imagine is his version of defeat. Fuck me running, what did I miss?

I asked Dr Weston to repeat what he just said and I'm just as defeated as Henry looks when I hear the Doc say he's not sure when Walt will wake or if he does what his mental capacities will be. Apparently the blow to the back of the head did a lot of damage. They're monitoring his brain currently to make sure they don't need to take him in for surgery to deal with swelling. Dr Weston also filled us in on what Walt's other injuries consisted of; numerous lacerations requiring stiches and a few butterfly bandages, three broken ribs and two fractured, broken nose, right hand busted up and most likely needing surgery but they're waiting on that, fractured big toe and of course his head injury. I need to see him. I have to see him. Dr Weston seems to understand my unspoken words and ushers me down the hall to Walt's room with out further delay. When I see him laying in the bed, hooked up to wires and tubes with bandages and IVs hanging I can't help the sob that bursts from my body. How can a man so large in presence look so small in that bed? I'm just about to walk closer to his prone body when alarms start ringing out. To me they're louder than any claxon I've ever heard. Before I know what's happening I'm being shoved out of the way and a sea of nurses as well as Dr Weston rush to Walt's bedside.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Lost In My Head BitzerClucky

Turns out the wrong man was named Bear because that was exactly what Walt acted like when he woke up. The alarms were from him pulling out practically every tube and wire attached to him. He thrashed and lashed out like the meanest black bear in the Big Horn Range. He really wasn't coherent; he was just running scared and definitely went with the fight versus flight response. The doc was eventually able to get a sedative into him and once he was out he was re-attached to all the equipment and kept sedated for a few days. Doc said it was to keep him quiet so he could begin to heal but I think it was just as much to make sure he didn't pull a Longmire. I'm just so relieved he came to on his own even if they just turned around and put him back out. Doc said there still could be some lasting head trauma but he's much more optimistic now as well. It's been five days since Walt was put under sedation and they plan to wean him off the drugs today and hopefully he'll come around in a more civilized manner.

Ferg and I are nowhere on the investigation. And by nowhere, I mean nada, no leads, not even any non-leads. The case is dead. We tried to find Dr Monahan but that's been for not. Her house looks like no one really ever lived there. It's more like a fake staged house and her bank accounts haven't been touched. When we dug deeper into her past HIPAA laws blocked us. As far as Ferg and I figure, the only reason her records would be blocked were if she herself was cuckoo cocoa puffs and if that were the case we are wondering how she got cleared to work for the VA. It's all really grey. I've contacted the FBI to look into it for me but so far they haven't found anything either or have chosen not to share. Ferg thought we should list her as a missing person as well as a potential suspect to Walt's attack and I agreed with him readily so we added the missing person along with the APB from earlier. We really need Walt's side of the attack if we are even going to pursue this further. Dr Weston has continued to remind us that there is a good chance Walt wont even remember the attack and if that's the case then we'll have no choice but to mark this one as a cold case and move on. Browning also is still MIA. It's like these two were just plucked out of Absaroka County by aliens or something. And it turns out Zach fell of the proverbial wagon and once he sobered up was arraigned on DUII charges. He has a strong alibi for the ass kickin' time frame as well so like I said we got nothing.

I've been watching over Walt for the last hour or so just waiting for him to wake up. Dr Weston said it should be any time now. He actually looks better. The swelling has gone down and his cuts don't look nearly as bad as they did just a few days ago. The bruising on the other hand is spectacular. He lucked out on the hand too. It was a clean fracture and they were able to set it and cast it up to his elbow. Doc said he should be out of the cast in 3-5 weeks. Since Walt was going to have an extended stay in the hospital, his toe fracture was just re-set and taped to it's buddy and will be good to go long before he's good to go. The ribs on the other hand are going to take some time. And of course we still don't know for sure on his head.

As I sit here watching him, I have the opportunity to replay the last year over and over in my mind. I've been such a fool. Walt's been such a fool. For two relatively smart people we both have made a cluster out of everything. We both had our own motives for it but the end is the same, we made poor choices that we need to fix. I feel like I've been given a second chance and I plan to not waste it. I hope Walt will feel the same. Regardless, I plan to stick it out here and with him. I'll do what it takes to get him back physically from his injuries as well as mentally. I also plan to get going on fixing myself. I truly hope we can do this together as a team, as partners and rebuild the trust we once had with each other. All this inner musing almost made me miss the signs of his waking up. A finger twitch here and there, some eye movement under his lids and an occasional groan…yup he's coming around.

I push the call button for the doctor as I'm encouraging Walt to open his eyes. He's trying, I can tell that much but he's struggling. I keep calling his name, encouraging him when he finally opens his eyes for me. I'm so happy. I keep telling him over and over again he's going to be all right and tears are spilling form my eyes. Dr Weston steps over and starts doing some bedside tests. Asking Walt to blink, shines a light in his eyes and explains to him how he's going to remove the tube from his throat. Once the tube is out and the coughing fit has ended, Dr Weston asks Walt some questions but he doesn't seem able to answer. Not like he doesn't know the answers but more like he just cant get the words out. We're both encouraging him when he finally rasps out, "Where are my pants?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Lost In My Head BitzerClucky

Seriously! Where are my pants? That's what you open with after five days of nothing! Fuck this man is seriously testing my nerves. Before I can finish my inner rant, the Doc starts asking Walt more direct questions; do you know where you are? What's the date? What's the last thing you remember? All the while Walt is getting more and more agitated. Not like before where he was physically fighting, no this was much much more scary. He's struggling. He's scared and it's scaring the shit out of me. He thinks its spring but has no clue as to the date. He knows he's in the hospital but the last thing he remembers is punching me in the face. He's mortified by it. His emotions are all over the board. We're all trying to calm him and it seems to be working but then just as I think that, he's back at mournfully apologizing. By now he's worn himself out and as much as he fought it, sleep takes him again.

I'm seriously freaked out. He has no memory of the last year. No idea about Branch, Barlow, Henry or any of the things in-between. Doc tells me not to worry too much. It's not uncommon he says for someone who suffered trauma such as his not to remember everything right away and that it should start to come back to him. Maybe bit by bit or he could wake up in a few hours and remember it all. If this keeps up, I'm the one who'll need an Ativan.

I decide the best course of action is to call Henry and Cady and let them know what's going on. Cady has been with her Dad most of the time he's been here but I finally convinced her to go home for some real rest and here I am calling her back. Henry on the other hand has been mysteriously missing throughout all this. He's cagey. I know he's been here because there is a medicine bag hanging from Walt's bed but I've not actually seen him. More questions that I'm hoping Walt will have the answers to.

Ferg calls in with an update for the day. All has been quiet with the exception of a few rowdy gamblers. That's one thing I suppose, the populous has decided to behave while I try to handle what's going on here. I keep bringing up the chain of events in my mind, processing each item and attaching them with sticky notes on the whiteboard of my brain and I've still got nothing. No real motive for Walt's attack, Dr Shrink is still MIA as well as the fucktard oil guy and of course Henry's very peculiar behavior. Fuck it's all giving me a headache.

It's been just about 45 minutes when Walt wakes again. He seems better this time around. More grounded, more coherent. We go through the same questions like some fucked up Groundhog's Day but his answers are better. He's still not sure of the date but then neither am I and he remembers someone crashing through his door but not who or who was with him in his cabin. The Doc seems happy with those answers and leaves us alone rattling off that this is all a good sign and not to worry it'll come back. When it's just the two of us I take ahold of Walt's hand and assure him we'll get our answers. And that's when he drops the next bomb and tells me he actually does remember whom he was with but wanted to make sure I was comfortable with everyone knowing about us.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Lost In My Head

I very delicately explain to Walt that he's wrong; I wasn't the one in his cabin all those days ago. He's perplexed and confused but says he trusts me and if I say it wasn't me then he believes me. Dr Weston decides to call in a psychiatrist to visit with Walt to assess his mental state. Everyone is still reassuring me that though Walt's memory issues are concerning they aren't all that uncommon when someone has taken the blows he has. Not just the physical ass whooping he received but the loss of Martha, subsequent chain of events after that and the general nature of his job. The head doctor says he has PTSD. Well thanks for that diagnosis doctor fucking obvious. He also goes on to explain that due to Walt's head injury his memories haven't been stored properly. There was basically a disconnect. He assures us all that he expects Walt to recover his proper memories it just might take time. This is going from bad to fucking off the charts bad and I'm not sure how much more either of us can take.

I'm scared and I know Walt is too. He says he's OK but I know different. He's just being his usual stubborn ass self. I've decided to call over the Cumberland County for some relief deputies so I can stay with Walt. Once the deputies get here I meet with them as well as Ferg and outline my plan to take some time off. I put Ferg in charge and make sure everyone is squared away and knows what is expected of them and what the chain of command is. I have no doubts that Ferg will rise up to this challenge and neither does Walt. Ferg has proven himself and his judgment is sound. He'll seek guidance if needed. With all that settled, I am free to devote my time to Walt and his healing.

So I guess the MD after their names does mean something. It's only been 36 hours and Walt has regained his proper memories. It hasn't helped his mental state any though. If anything I think he's pulling further into himself. He says he's ashamed of how he's acted over the last year. Embarrassed and guilty and debased and any and every other word that describes failure. I don't placate him and tell him it's OK and everything is forgiven because that's not true. I'm not sure if anything will ever be ok again but what I do tell him is that he's not alone and that I'll stick with him and together we can work through all this shit. Try to find our new normal and hopefully some of the good we use to have will come back.

I'm told Walt will be discharged tomorrow. Thank goodness. He's of course not free from medical follow up. He has a string of follow up medical appointments and scheduled head shrinkage to be done. I asked Ferg to check out the state of the cabin and give me a list of things I need to have arranged before we head home but he said when he got out there the place was immaculately clean and there was no sign of the crime scene. I asked Cady about it and she had no clue that took care of things. I can only assume it was the wayward Nation.

The drive out to the cabin was slow going. Walt though happy to be free of the hospital was still understandably uncomfortable and try as I might to drive smoothly I think I hit every pothole in the county. The closer we got to the cabin the quieter Walt got if that is possible. I can tell the cogs are turning in his mind I just hope it's good ones and not the latter. As we cross the threshold, Walt in front of me, I see his shoulders slump and the trembling slowly build from a simmer to full on all consuming release. The only thing I know to do his guide him to the sofa and hold him tightly until it passes.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Lost In My Head

I'm really not sure who was more uncomfortable during Walt's well purge is all I can think of to call it. I've never seen someone release so many emotions in such a short time. Start to finish the entire episode lasted maybe 30 minutes. Thirty very long minutes. By the time it was done, both of us were a sniveling, snotty, blotchy hot mess. Of course the first thing Walt did was apologize for everything. He somehow took the blame for my failed marriage to Shawn, Branch's murder, Martha's murder and I think global warming.

It took us a fair bit of time before we finally settled into a comfortable cohabitation. I had a long list of do's and don'ts sent home from the doctor so I set up a schedule or duty roster as it were to make sure nothing was missed. There were breathing treatments to be done three times a day, some very minor strength building exercise and small walks in the cabin. Mainly from the bed to the bathroom to the sofa and back again. Walt is still very weak. It alarmed me at first, so much so that I called the Doc but he assured me Walt was progressing, as he should. He not so subtly reminded me that Walt had the wholly living shit kicked out of him as well as a bout on pneumonia as a chaser.

We're talking a lot more now too. I asked him for the story of Walt Longmire from the beginning of time and he's actually obliged. Some of the tales along the way I expected and others have completely floored me. Who'd have guessed the sheriff of Absaroka County liked to burn one down from time to time. I guess I'll have to add some Ben Harper to the soundtrack I associate with Walt. Even though he's sharing I still get the impression that he's holding volumes back as well. We came up with a game. Quid pro Quo, he shares then I share. Like him, I'm letting bits of the walls I've erected crumble however I'm instilling the policy of cautious optimism that we're getting back to our partnership and friendship levels of before.

His real physical therapy starts tomorrow. I warned him that the pansy ass stuff we've been doing is nothing compared to what Dave the PT guy has planned for him. Dave has agreed to come out to the cabin for the first three sessions then it's up to us to get into town for the appointments. I tried to assure Dave that we could drive in for all of them but he insisted on doing this little favor for Walt, he said he owed him and that once he was done working him over, Walt would be glad for the close proximity of his bed.

Turns out a young David Matthews got himself into a bit of trouble back in his high school days and Walt gave him two choices. First work in the Sheriff's office for twelve months doing whatever chore Walt, Ruby or any other deputy needed or spend the next two and a half years at the lock down school for wayward boys. He chose the first option. The twelve months turned into thirty-six, the last twenty-four being on the staff. Once Dave graduated Walt helped him fill in college applications and scholarships and the rest is history. I really enjoyed watching Walt tell the story. I haven't experienced him talking with such animation and pride, it was nice.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Lost In My Head

Fuck me running…Dave was right! He sure did do a number on Walt. All for his own good no doubt but fucking A even I hurt after that first session. Walt started off strong, cocky even then turned quiet then even he was dropping F bombs left and right. I know this is probably a bit perverse but I found it sexy as hell when the bombs let loose. That and the beads of sweat that were pouring off his body. Yeah, I admit I'm a bit touched but dyamm the man is sexy as hell. Of course I didn't share my thoughts with him but I think Dave was picking up on my inner thoughts and pheromones.

The next day, we had to head into town for a follow up with Dr Bloomfield. Once Walt got through with his appointment we headed to the Pony for some lunch. Still no Henry though. I'm curious where Standing Bear has been. Walt hasn't been particularly concerned. He said Henry does this type of thing form time to time and that when he's ready he'll show. I still find the whole Lost Bear thing odd. But after hearing some of their tales growing up maybe it's really not so unusual.

I teased Walt about the next day or day two of his PT session with Dave. All I got in return was a groan/growl noise out of him. When he finally found his voice again he asked me if I wanted to work out with him. Fuck yeah I did, I need to get my body moving. Playing nursemaid to his lazy ass was affecting my ass.

The session today wasn't too bad. I made it through just fine and Walt made it through better than the first one. He was still cussing up a storm but we skipped the quiet phase. Went from cocky to fuck-a-thon in no time flat. Of course it was just a verbal fuck-a thon. Oh well, there's time for all that, if all that is where we're heading. Once Dave left, we each showered and I started dinner while he relaxed and got a fire going. After dinner Walt asked me if we could talk, my first thought was what the fuck have we been doing all this time but he meant really talk.

That night we talked about our giant pink elephant that we kept jamming in the closet. It was time. I was really well past time but we both needed to be in the right spot before we even attempted to sort our shit out. It's by no means completely laid to bear but I feel confident we'll get there. Walt was surprised by how his actions made me feel. He's so fucking dense. I use to think he was playing the awe shucks golly g ma'am routine but I've come to realize that he really is that fucking dense ¾ of the time. As far as why he acted in the asstardness way he did, It wasn't much of a surprise it all came down to how everything happened with Martha. He didn't want to risk going through that again so he figured he'd just settle for someone who was a shadow of the person he wanted. He figured if anything bad ever happened to Dr Shrinktastic then he'd be upset obviously but he knew it wouldn't destroy him. The bombshell of the night was when he said that if something were to happen to me; that would be the end. He wouldn't want to continue on much less be able to.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 Lost In My Head

There's nothing quite like finally getting all the shit out in the open. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest and I'm pretty sure Walt feels the same. I told him I knew exactly how he felt. We talked more about the Gilbert incident and how I felt when the body bag hit the floor. We realized we had yet another thing in common, aside from both of us being emotionally inept that is…we both cannot imagine a life where the other is absent from it. And that is where we plan to build from.

I'm heading back to work in a few days. Walt is fine here by himself and between Cady and I we'll check on him periodically. I'm ready to get back. I'm glad I took this time with Walt, not just to help him physically but also to help me emotionally. I've made it crystal clear to him that if he falls back into is mute asshole ways I will not tolerate it. We've agreed that we both want to move our relationship forward however we're taking the physical bits slow and working on rebuilding our friendship and partnership first. I had to remind the dumb ass that we haven't actually gone on a date and maybe that would be a good place to start. I'm still waiting for the invite. Walt is still a few weeks away from being able to go back to work and still has pretty regular PT appointments. He has been given the go ahead to drive again so that's helped out a ton. He was really getting cabin fever and I don't blame him for that.

When I got back to work, there was a large bouquet of flowers waiting for me. Dark and light pink roses along with a single orange rose in the middle. I had to Google that shit to find out what it all meant. Damn the man has passion! Ruby just gave me a knowing look and a wink. Work was slow on my first day back, which was both a blessing and a curse. I was glad to ease back in and catch up on things but I found my eyes drifting to the flower vase and would zone out at times. Ferg called me out on it once or twice but it wasn't malicious, just like a little brother taunting me kind of way. I realized that day that I was happy. I found peace and in return found my happiness again...or maybe for the first time. I'm not naïve, I know that there will be troubling and hard times that come along but I really feel free for the first time and feel as though I can handle what ever comes my way.

I called Walt on my lunch hour to check in and see what exciting things he's been up to but there was no answer at the cabin. I had a moment of panic until I remembered he had a doctor appointment earlier today. He needs to get himself a motherfucking cell phone. Not even a few minutes after I hung up the phone, I heard the downstairs door open and a step thump coming up the stairs. As I moved into the foyer to investigate I saw Walt lumbering up the stairs with a bag of food from the Bee and grimace on his face. When he saw me looking down at him the grimace turned into a full on, teeth shining smile. God I love his smile. Fuck me I'm getting sappy…but I do. After we ate our lunch and visited with Ruby and Ferg for a bit Walt said he needed to get home and take a rest. As he was leaving he bent down and gave me a peck on the lips and that flirty smile of his on his way out. Ruby looked pleased and Ferg had to lift his chin off his chest and I just hollered out to Walt not to be a tease. When I glanced over to Ferg I just shrugged and told him to get use to it!

End…of this phase anyway…


End file.
